


Lost and Found

by forgetmenotjimmy



Series: Brought Back [2]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Andorian Hospitality, Andorians, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Rescue, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-12-07 20:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11631123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetmenotjimmy/pseuds/forgetmenotjimmy
Summary: He had already repaid his debt to the pinkskin Captain, he had no obligation to aid this human. It might not even be from the same ship. Even still, there were dozens of other prisoners, they couldn’t rescue them all. There was no reason to help this one over the others.Of course Shran can't give up an opportunity to have Archer in his debt for a change! In the process he learns more about his unlikely allies the humans, and in particular, their Chief Engineer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are very vague mentions of slavery and medical experiments carried out on people against their will, otherwise no warnings.

Commander Shran narrowed his eyes and his antenna jerked downwards as he scrutinised the map on the monitor.

“And you’re sure they’re being held here?” His first lieutenant nodded.

“Positive, Commander. It’s a laboratory-come-slavers facility, or an ‘information mine’ as the owners like to sell it. They capture different species and collect data on their biology and other information, then sell the people on as slaves, if they survive the experiments. Apparently the auctions for certain data cards can go up to astronomical amounts, depending on the species.”

“How to kill a Klingon?”

“Yes, that kind of thing. Our spies have discovered that our people are being held here and are still alive, if a little worse for wear, along with a number of different prisoners from other species. The owners of this information network have advanced stealth technology, which is primarily how they catch their subjects and avoid detection from anyone looking for them.” Shran listened further as his senior officers discussed how best to launch the rescue. Captain Telev was standing in the corner of the room, looking as bored as he usually appeared. Although he was the Captain of the ship, and a capable one, Commander Shran and his team had been assigned for this extraction and he was only transporting them. His antennas were twitching in impatience, causing Shran to grit his teeth and looked down at the floor plan of the facility again. He paused.

“Does this say human?” Lieutenant Tholos glanced over and confirmed it was correct. “I didn’t know there were any pinkskins out this far. Only…” Could it be? It did seem like the universe was a small place where they were concerned. Miraculously, this information perked Telev up.

“Did our man see the pinkskin?” Everyone’s antennas jumped at his question, as if remembering he was present. The Lieutenant answered slowly.

“I don’t believe so sir, he just overheard the scientists mentioning the name and that it was a new ‘find’.” Shran shared a look with Telev, before the Captain shrugged, not as curious as Shran over the oddity. The Commander considered silently. He had already repaid his debt to the pinkskin Captain, he had no obligation to aid this one. There was no way of knowing if it was even from the same ship. And after all, there were dozens of other prisoners, they couldn’t rescue them all. There was no reason to help this one over the others.

They would attack in the middle of the night just after a shift change so they would only have security personnel to deal with, no civilians. Except for the prisoners of course. That became an issue. Their mission parameters only included retrieving their own people. There was disagreement as to how much aid they could or should grant the rest of the detainees.

Sergeant Keval had recommended disabling the main power grid. This would cause all the internal doors to open, including cell doors, so the prisoners had the chance to try and escape themselves. When Telev started contributing again, he’d pointed out that they were on a military vessel, not a transport ship, and the orders had been clear and simple: retrieve their people. Sergeant Keval had reasoned that there were some ships in the facility’s bay the prisoners could use and they could always drop anyone off at a nearby port without much trouble.

“Getting our people are the priority, but the Imperial Guard also has the responsibility to ensure the future safety of our kind. These criminals are clearly a threat, taking them down now will prevent them from harming more Andorians in the future. We’ll disable their systems and take away their subjects.” Lieutenant Tholos crossed his arms and argued.

“This is only one strand in a vast network and not within our mission parameters.” Hearing enough and having made up his mind, Shran spoke decisively.

“Then we’ll be sending them a message to not cross Andorians. That’s always within mission parameters.” Some of the team grumbled, but they all agreed to the strategy. As the meeting broke up, Telev came up to Shran.

“Suddenly these pinkskins seem to be everywhere, don’t you think?” Lieutenant Tholos, who had been gathering the data pads, snorted and said to Shran.

“Maybe they just like you, sir.” His Commander shot him a look before turning to Telev.

“Their involvement has proven to be useful so far.” Telev’s antennas twitched and he shrugged before sauntering off. Shran held back a huff of exasperation and went to prepare.

\---

As soon as they dropped out of warp, they moved quickly and efficiently, penetrating the cloaked barrier surrounding the station. The base only had low-yield weapons as it relied heavily on its stealth technology. The shots barely shook the ship and it took a matter of seconds to disable the weapons. They docked as alarms blared and lights flashed. Shran and his team infiltrated the facility with military ease, Shran secretly proud of how his troops’ competence decisively trounced the amateurish guards. One team was dispatched to the control centre shut off the power to the cells quickly and then got to work on the data banks. The other team headed for the cells.

They went to the cell holding their own people first, pleased to find them awake and mobile. Covering the men helping the dazed prisoners to the exit, even though the guards seemed to have been taken care of, Shran couldn’t help his gaze finding the door he knew held the human. There were some other prisoners in different stages of escape, gingerly peering out, limping or bolting for the exit. He could have missed the human running out, he was meant to be covering his own people, he couldn’t just… Growling at himself, he checked that his people were clear and stalked over to the open cell, looking in. It was still occupied. Despite the loud alarm and activity outside, the pinkskin was slumped against the wall, eyes staring into nothingness. Shran recognised him, he was one of Archer’s men: the engineer. Although his body didn’t seem in bad shape, he was obviously damaged mentally. Well, Shran had come this far.

He stepped into the cell and bent down, shaking the human by the shoulder.

“Hey! Hey Pinkskin, time to leave!” At his touch, the man blinked and looked up, eyes focusing. His brow furrowed.

“Shran?” His voice was hoarse and he started coughing immediately after speaking. He moved so stiffly that Shran revised the estimation that he was uninjured. Still, priorities.

“Glad you remembered, now come on!” The human started to get up and Shran helped him, swaying a little under his weight. Slowly at first, but picking up speed as they went, the pair headed for the exit. His Lieutenant quickly found them.

“Commander,” he paused when he saw the prisoner leaning on his commander’s side, but quickly pushed on, “we’ve secured our people and some of the other prisoners. Can’t seem to get the collars off, but we’ve acquired some equipment from the guards.”

“And the data download?”

“Complete, the team is just wiping the system and returning now.”

“Good, then let’s go.” He spotted one of his team, “Keval! Take him on board.” He transferred the human over and then helped coordinate the last stragglers on, glad to leave the terrible place.

\---

“What’s the verdict, doctor?” Shran had visited the medical unit as soon as he had finished debriefing the Imperial Guard Council. The doctor looked up from some notes and smiled slightly.

“Physically they’ll all be fine. Some of the other species are slightly worse than our people, but it seems these ‘scientists’ were careful not to cause any permanent damage.” His antenna dipping as he spoke showed his view of the people at the facility. “They did sometimes scar their subjects, most likely by accident, but in general their bodies will all recover.” He looked up at Shran, antennas stretching agitatedly. “Mentally, is another story.”

“Yes, I noticed the pinkskin in particular was…” He wasn’t sure how to finish the thought but the doctor nodded and walked them over to the human’s bed.

“I noticed that too, he fades in and out of cognition. I’ve managed to get some responses from him, but at other times he lapses into abnormal consciousness.” They reached the bed and looked down at the human, who was sleeping. “I haven’t had time to study their data on humans properly, but his vital signs seem to be within normal parameters. This type of reaction to trauma is observed in many species, including our own, but I’m unable to say how resilient his species is compared to ours.” He turned fully to his Commander. “Anyway, I am sure our people will recover fully from their experience, I’ll keep you updated on when they can return to duty, but it shouldn’t be too long.” Shran nodded in thanks, before glancing back at the human, who was now stirring and slowly opening his eyes. The doctor was called away by one of the nurses, so Shran moved closer to Archer’s man, curious to discover what had become of his people. The human saw him and muttered.

“Water.” Twitching his antennas, Shran retrieved a cup of water and helped the human drink some small sips. “Thanks.”

“You’re safe now.” The man stared at him for a long moment, before huffing a soft, sad laugh.

“Or I’m tripping pretty hard.” Not understanding the phrase, but recognising the dark humour, Shran ignored it and continued.

“How did you get separated from your ship? Did something happen to Archer?” Suddenly the human came fully awake, struggling to a sitting position and grabbing Shran’s arm, he said urgently.

“That thing, he told me that Enterprise was in the system and they were planning a trap for them! I refused to help, but their cloaking technology, Enterprise has no way of detecting it. You gotta stop them!”

“Calm pinkskin, we took out the facility’s systems before we left. I doubt they’ll be trapping anyone else for a while.” The human did not seem comforted, breathing still quick and unsteady, eyes wide and desperate. “Anyway, we’ll contact your ship and warn them.” Finally calming, the human nodded and laid back, serious as he said.

“Thanks. I owe you.”

“Too right!” Shran was already wondering what he could ask in return for delivering the engineer back to his people. They’d left the system at high warp immediately, heading for the rendez-vous point with the rest of the fleet. But he’d send a message to Archer about his man. “Anyway, tell me how you came to be at that place.”  The human’s eyes drifted into the middle distance as he told the story.

His Captain and a small landing party were exploring an uninhabited M-class planet, studying the fauna and flora. They had been interested in the strange readings they’d detected near some underground volcanoes, something they believed to be a natural phenomenon. He and the armoury officer had entered the cave system and had been following their scanners to the source of the anomalies when his companion’s scanner had malfunctioned. They’d stopped, deciding whether to turn back or continue with only one, when they’d realised that they’d lost signal. The Armory Officer had retreated back a little the way they’d come, trying to pinpoint the depth where their communicators would receive signal again whilst the Engineer had continued taking readings with his working scanner.

Suddenly, he’d caught an anomaly in the readings and he followed the pattern until he’d stepped on some loose rocks and had slipped down a sharp incline. He hadn’t fallen far, but he’d injured his leg and couldn’t get back up. He’d tried shouting, but couldn’t hear any response from his companion. Eventually, he’d gone on down one of the tunnels to try and find another way up. Instead he’d found himself surrounded.

“It was a trap, obviously.” The human swallowed, expression troubled. “The scanner didn’t pick them up, I didn’t even see them till they were right on top of me.” Shran narrowed his eyes in sympathetic frustration. “I tried fighting them, but there were too many. They pushed me down and…” The event had clearly been painful and traumatic as the mere memory of it seemed to disorientate the human. He whispered, eyes once again distant. “Cap’n…Someone, please, help…”  Disturbed and a little impatient, Shran briefly tried to recall the human’s name, but in the end settled for remembering his rank.

“Commander! Concentrate!” The order snapped his eyes back to Shran and he shook himself a little before continuing.

“I woke up in that place and, well, you know the rest.” His story was similar to that of his own people. They’d been separated from the rest of their regiment during a surveillance mission and had been cornered by the slavers. Cowards! Worse, they had been sadistic cowards. Seeing the pinkskin now fiddling with the cuff on his wrist, Shran warned him.

“Careful, we haven’t been able to remove them yet, something about them being hooked into the central nervous system.” The human smirked suddenly.

“Only the neck braces.” And then he maimed his own hand with a dull, fleshy clunk.

“What are you doing?” The human glanced up before returning his gaze to his gruesome work, sweat beading on his forehead as he twisted and tugged the cuff off his now damaged hand. Another yank to his hand and Shran could now see what the human had done: he’d manipulated his thumb joint out of place, reducing the breadth of his hand span to remove the cuff and then simply popped it back in place. Wincing and stretching his fingers, the human shook his hand and breathed through the pain. He held the cuff out and Shran took it warily.

“There you go, your boys should have an easier time studying that one.” He saw the Andorian staring at him and shrugged. “I tried to escape a lot. They liked that trick as well.” He leaned back, visibly tired from his exertions and waved at his neck. “Can’t do it with that one though, so don’t ask.”

“Well pinkskin, aren’t you full of surprises.” The human murmured unintelligibly but otherwise didn’t reply, slipping back into sleep. The Commander’s antenna’s waved slightly in thought. He handed the cuff over to his team and then went back to the bridge.

“Sergeant, did you detect the human ship in the system?”

“No sir.”

“One of those people told the human that the Earth ship had been detected in the system. He must have been lying.” The communications officer just looked at him patiently as he thought. “Scan the surrounding systems for their warp signature.” Turning away from the station, he saw Lieutenant Tholos staring in his direction, arms crossed. “Don’t look at me like that. Need I remind you that we would do well to have the humans indebted to us, they are a useful ally, which they have already proven.”

“They are allied with the Vulcans-” He fixed his subordinate with a hard look.

“Archer isn’t.” Captain Telev appeared on the bridge and announced flatly.

“We will continue to the rendez-vous point.” Shran nodded.

“We will, but we can still send them a message.” Turning back to the comm desk, Shran barked at the comm officer. “Send this message out on the human frequency.”

\---

Captain Archer paced in his ready room restlessly. He had been wearing a hole in the deck plating from the moment he’d come back on board from that terrible planet. His heart had been shredding itself ever since he’d heard Lieutenant Reed’s not-so-calm report that he had lost sight of the Commander. He and T’Pol had raced over to help, but none of their scanners could find him. They’d searched for hours, come up with a dozen theories, each more implausible and desperate than the last. Finally, Enterprise had hailed them, telling them that they’d detected a faint warp trail leaving the planet. That had been the hardest decision of the Captain’s career so far: stay and try to find out what had happened to Trip or take a chance and follow the alien ship, not knowing if he was aboard or if they’d be able to help. T’Pol quickly pointed out that if the ship had technology to almost completely hide it from their scans, then there was a strong possibility that it was linked to why the Commander had suddenly disappeared. It was most likely because of advanced cloaking technology. That had clinched it: they’d hurriedly returned to Enterprise and chased the cooling trail.

That had been weeks ago and with all their ideas and leads come to nothing, he was facing an ever increasingly likely and harsh truth. He couldn’t face it yet. Maybe he’d never be able to. He might have abandoned his Chief Engineer on an alien planet. Left him to die alone. His best friend. He and Trip had known each other for over 10 years. They’d faced many trials together and many celebrations. They’d trekked through the Australian outback, swum deep through the ocean, walked on Titan and even ventured into deep space together. So much history, so much love. He couldn’t accept that his friend was lost, vanished into nothingness. Forcing himself to calm his breathing, he came to a stop and closed his eyes. Trip was out there somewhere and one day they would meet again and he would hear that voice, warm and happy and his. If he tried hard enough, he could hear it now.

“Bridge to the Captain.” Startled but grateful, he answered and felt his heart leap as Hoshi reported. “Incoming transmission, sir, audio only. You need to hear this.” Striding out onto the Bridge, trying not to get his hopes up yet hopelessly anticipating what it was, he schooled his features. He could see the bridge staff watching him out of the corner of his eye. Lieutenant Reed stiffly sitting to attention and Ensign Mayweather’s head tilted slightly behind him so he could see Archer. Ensign Sato’s finger on her ear and another on the comm, body taught with tension, face bright. It gave him hope. Finally, he saw his Science Officer, expression as blank as if she was waiting for her tea at the drinks station. But there was something in her eyes, maybe he was imagining it, but throughout the last week he thought he’d seen a shadow of emotion cross her face a few times. Could it be that she was concerned for Trip, more than for a missing colleague? Worrying about his absence more than the problems it would cause Enterprise to be without her Chief Engineer and more about his safety? His continued existence? Or maybe he was just projecting, she probably was only considering the logical ramifications of a missing crewmember and such an important one at that. Swallowing, he stood in front of his chair, nodded to Ensign Sato and she played the transmission.

“Captain Archer, this is Commander Shran of the Andorian Imperial Guard.” Archer exchanged a raised eyebrow with T’Pol but then promptly forgot how to breathe as Shran’s message continued. “We have recovered your engineer from some slave traders who’d taken some of our own people. Our physician doesn’t know much about human physiology, but he’s relatively sure your man will make a full recovery. Come to the Vras system in three days’ time to pick him up. Oh, and you owe me.” Suddenly weak in the knees, Archer grabbed the back of his chair to steady himself and listened to sounds of his crew celebrating.


	2. Chapter 2

“Commander Shran, this is Captain Archer. We’ve received your message and are heading for the Vas system. We will reach you there in three days.” There was a pause and the Captain continued in a carefully controlled tone. “Not that I don’t trust you, but we would like to hear from Commander Tucker, when he’s recovered of course.” Another pause, then a curt. “Archer out.” The message ended. Shran’s antenna’s waved as he observed the human. He’d brought the message down to the Medical Unit, pleased that the patient had been awake and alert. If it had been a message for anyone else, the Commander would have sent a subordinate to deliver it. But he wanted to learn more about Archer and he could do that by observing the effect of his message on his man.

Now, standing beside the bio bed, he wasn’t sure what reaction he’d expected from the human. One of his own team would want to transmit a report, phrased depending on the channel. He knew that the humans were not military personnel and he wasn’t familiar with their own protocols, but he had expected some kind of similar response. Perhaps some happiness at hearing that his Captain was safe and coming to collect him. It struck Shran as odd that Archer’s man did not look like he wanted to respond to his Captain’s message. He had sighed in relief when Shran had informed him that they’d heard from his ship, but then he’d just sat on the bed, gaze starting to go distant as he’d listened to Archer’s message. He didn’t move when it ended. Shran waited for a moment, acknowledging that it had only been a few hours since the rescue, before speaking in the awkward pause, indicating to the device.

“I’ll record your reply.” Tucker looked up at him briefly, his facial expression was not discernible to the Andorian, but he had been pulled from the blankness he’d seen haunting his own people. Once again he cursed that he hadn’t had the pleasure of encountering any of the ‘scientists’ who had left those shadows in their victims’ eyes. The human examined the device and seemed to think for a moment. He cleared his throat and nodded. Shran started recording.

“Cap’n, good to hear your voice.” Tucker swallowed. “I’m okay. See you soon.” Then he closed his mouth and leant back. Apparently finished. Shran looked at him for a long moment, before stopping the recording and turning off the device. Part of him wanted to comment on the brevity of the message but he didn’t even know if that was unusual for humans. He replayed all of his recollections of humans speaking and whilst not superfluous, they weren’t usually as abrupt. Shran remembered the engineer’s concern for this Captain when they’d worked together on Corinth. He and the human Armoury Officer had displayed as much loyalty and competency as Shran would expect from any of his own team. He would have expected more of a reaction, remembering the way Tucker had raced to his Captain’s aide, untying him, helping him to his feet, the warmth and relief clear in his voice. He couldn’t see any of that now, it was as if the human’s essence had been drained away. Putting aside the mystery for later, the Andorian Commander nodded and then left the Medical Unit.

\---

The next few days on the Andorian ship were uneventful. As the prisoners recovered, the extraction team tried to remove the cuffs. There was some kind of complex mechanism they were having trouble deciphering, even with the loose cuff the human had provided. Said human left his bed as soon as he was able and offered his opinion, much to the annoyance and then begrudging gratitude of the team, as his insight proved useful. Together, they worked out how to safely remove the cuffs. Just in time, as the next day they reached the space port and dropped off the prisoners much to the relief of the serious soldiers of the Imperial Guard. But the human, Telev allowed to stay on board. Shran wanted to hand him over to Enterprise himself, to ensure he received the full credit and confirmation of the debt owed. Telev offered no official reason for his support of Shran’s request, but Shran correctly guessed that the Captain was also curious about the humans. Whilst the crew was mostly apathetic to his presence, Shran’s superiors reluctantly agreed that the extra effort would reap enough rewards to make it worth it. The humans had some sway with the Vulcans, any debt gained would only be useful in future negotiations.

Tucker had spent the first night recovering, but after that he'd refused to stay lying down for long. In order to make him useful and to occupy his still troubled mind, the Andorian Commander arranged for the engineering team to give the human simple tasks to do. It had started with fixing a malfunctioning communicator, something the human engineer had made short work of. Once he’d recovered enough of his strength and the team began to trust his abilities, he was assigned menial tasks like cleaning plasma conduits and fixing simple circuits. He did not complain, simply grateful to be of use and eager to work. As he emerged from his mental fog for longer and longer periods, the human began to express endless curiosity for the Andorian engines. He was not allowed to see much of them, the engineering team suspicious of outsiders, but eventually his strange charm and guileless face wore them down and they slipped him little tit bits of information.

Commander Shran had many responsibilities and was very busy coordinating his team’s next assignment. But he was curious to learn more about the pinkskins and so made time to observe and talk to the human. There wasn’t long left until Enterprise arrived and they’d have to continue on, Shran didn’t want to lose any potential to extrapolate more information. He already knew that they were brave and honourable, level-headed and reasonable but also passionate. The more he knew, however, the more advantage he had. On the evening before they were due to meet with Enterprise, the human seemed mostly recovered from his ordeal. He was performing more physical activities, no longer staring into space for long periods of time and the crew had partially warmed to him. So Shran invited him to dinner with his commando team. A few of them baulked at the idea, but the majority had heard good things about the human, and recognised the opportunity his presence provided. Even Captain Telev expressed interest in attending.

The meal started with some small talk among the team, but it wasn’t long before their curiosity won out.

“So Pinkskin, tell us about your home planet.” Haltingly at first, but increasing in confidence as he saw the other diners were genuinely interested, the human told them about Earth, about how the continents were separated by huge oceans, how the diverse climates and landscapes caused different peoples and cultures to develop before they’d discovered how to travel and had warred with and enslaved each other and eventually how humanity had learned to live together peacefully. Telev asked if the dark-skinned crew member he’d seen on their bridge had been ill and laughing, his whole being suddenly lightening and loosening, the engineer had explained about different races and how although the majority of the crew did indeed have pink skin, that was because of the country who launched the starship, rather than a higher percentage of pink-skinned humans on Earth.

In return, he asked about their home world and they all began to sell the beauty and danger of their places of origin, the boasts becoming more outlandish the more they went on. After that talk went onto explain the Imperial Guard, how it was formed, what function it provided and the roles of those around the table. Shran didn’t participate much in the conversation, merely watching the human’s reactions, judging Archer’s estimation in this man. He’d only had the briefest encounters with the human, once on Pah’jem and another time on Corinth.

He was an accomplished conversationalist, sharing interesting information in an easy-to-understand manner and listening to others, asking intelligent questions to encourage the flow of the conversation. Shran had heard of the pinkskin impressing the engineering team with his quick mind and quicker fingers, tackling more complex problems with increasing speed as he recovered. Although the humans were one or two Warp factors behind them, it was clear that with men like Tucker, they would catch up quickly. And of course he’d seen the steel underneath the charm as the engineer had worked to free his Captain on Corinth. Archer had chosen his team wisely it seemed. Shran approved and would tell the Captain if he had the chance. Eventually, they finished the meal and headed for bed. Shran walked the Commander back to his guest quarters.

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner.” The human drawled, looking the most relaxed he’d been since he’d been unconscious and recovering in the medical unit. “You guys are alright.” Interpreting the phrase as a compliment, Shran inclined his head. The human continued. “It was nice.” He smirked a little. “Informative.” Shran returned the expression.

“For us as well. Archer is lucky to have you as his Chief Engineer.” Tucker glanced at him then, his eyes narrowing. Shran knew that the human had discerned the motivations behind his hospitality. But the engineer didn’t comment, merely saying proudly.

“He has the best crew in the fleet.” Deciding that he had enough to be getting on with, Shran didn’t reply. They arrived at guest quarters. Tucker turned to Shran and said quietly, almost compulsively. “I’ll tell ya, as much as I love being here, meeting new people, learning new things, I can’t wait to get back to my engines. I know my crew will take good care of them but,” he smiled sheepishly, “just want to see ‘em to be sure.” He didn’t mention seeing his crew again, but Shran heard the double meaning. He was unsure what to make of this confession. Whilst it wasn’t exactly classified or sensitive information about him or his people, it was a little personal to be saying to someone you knew was fishing for information from you. Then Shran re-considered it. The human Commander was cut off from his own people, however temporarily, and was still recovering from a harsh ordeal. Perhaps he was just feeling lonely. He ventured.

“You’ll see them tomorrow.” Tucker nodded and they parted ways, lost in their own thoughts.

\----

_Make a full recovery. Relatively sure._ _He’s relatively sure your man will make a full recovery._

What did that mean? Recover from what? He’d mentioned slavers. Archer’s blood ran cold at the thought. What had happened to his man? Images of chains and whips flashed before his eyes. He saw again memories of that prison transport ship, seeing his friend in restraints, electrocuted, beaten. He tried to push those thoughts away. There was no point imaging the potential horrors his friend could have suffered through. If only he hadn’t hesitated in following that ship, if only they’d been faster, better.

He thought about the dozen words in Trip’s message from the Andorian ship. Was that all he’d really wanted to say? Was he unable to say more? Vaguely, Jon wished that they’d decided on code words in case they were separated and one of them was under duress. He almost laughed at the realisation that he was starting to sound like Reed, before sobering. It seemed like that would be a necessary precaution from now on. He sighed heavily. It hadn’t meant to be like this.

Hellish thoughts had been haunting him in his waking hours and plaguing his dreams for three days. Whilst it was nothing compared to the straightjacket of terror that had gripped him before they’d heard from Shran, the uncertainty was still taking its toll on him. Finally, they made contact with the Andorian ship. Archer all but raced to the Bridge. He nodded to Hoshi and Shran’s face appeared on screen.

“Archer, your ship is looking in good condition.” Hesitating in the face of that odd compliment, then again with Andorians maybe it was a standard greting, the Captain glanced at T’Pol who just looked back. Clearing his throat, he began.  

“Thank you Shran. It’s good to see you again.” He briefly considered more pleasantries, but he remembered that the Andorian Commander wasn’t a big stickler for ceremony. And a good thing too; the temptation was too great. “How is Trip? Is he there?” Antenna’s twitching, as if chuckling at him, Shran said with a smile.

“He’s currently in Engineering.” So he must at least be awake, mobile, feeling curious and anxious to be moving. _He’s alright, he’s alright, he’s alright…_

“Making a nuisance of himself, no doubt.” The Captain tried for humour, but he knew the strained, hopeful tone undermined the words.

“Why don’t you come aboard? We can drink to your crewman’s safe return.” Captain Archer hated himself a little for how relieved the offer made him and how quick he was to take it. But only a little. He nodded at Lieutenant Reed and they made their way to the airlock. The Captain felt his Armoury Officer’s tension as much as he felt is own. He knew that however guilty he felt at failing his friend, Malcolm had to feel it twofold. The amount of times he’d said incredulously ‘He was right there!’ when they’d been searching for the Commander, and the way he’d barely spoken since were proof of that. Archer thought he heard an almost silent ‘thank God’ from the Englishman. But when he glanced over, he just saw the usual stoic mask.

Shran met them at the airlock and inclined his head in greeting. He led the way, saying matter-of-factly.

“I informed your engineer of your arrival, he’s collecting his things from guest quarters now.” So his friend hadn’t hobbled his way from Sick Bay to Engineering then. Any injuries he’d suffered couldn’t have been too bad if he’d been staying in guest quarters. Archer tried to order his heart rate to return to normal as he listened to Shran. “Before you see your man, there’s a few things you might like to know first.” He handed the Captain a PADD. “This is all the information the slavers gathered about your crewman.” Archer took it, glanced at it briefly, before passing it to Reed. “The group is a network of traffickers, interested in collecting information on various species, physical, biological and psychological data to sell to whoever would pay.” Archer felt his Armoury Officer stiffen at his side and he didn’t feel too great about that bit of information either. He forced himself calm before he asked.

“What did they do to my crewman?” If Shran had any opinions on his reactions to the news, he didn’t comment on it. Merely saying.

“Our doctor confirmed that everyone we recovered from the facility had undergone numerous experiments.” His antenna started waving agitatedly as he continued. “Most of them were non-invasive, it seems like they didn’t want to do too much damage to the ‘merchandise’, especially rare species like you.” He turned a corner, continuing. “I’m afraid the data we recovered is mostly made up of the results, rather than the details of the experiments. You should be able to work out most of it, but if you want to know exactly what they did, you’ll have to ask Tucker himself.” Jon frowned, enquiring haltingly.

“Has he…said anything to you?” Shran glanced at him and he went on. “Just, to save him from...” Shran inclined his head in acknowledgement, his antenna’s movements slowing down.

“Whilst your engineer and I have had several conversations, none of them were concerning his time in captivity. Although…” He considered and then said quietly. “He did mention attempting to escape on a number of occasions. He showed me how he slipped his restraints by…” he shuddered, “deliberately misaligning his thumb joint.” Archer winced, glancing at Lieutenant Reed, who explained.

“Dislocating the thumb decreases the width of the hand span, it’s a common method of escaping bonds.” Shran's face turned extremely serious as he pulled out something from his pocket and showed it them. It was a wrist cuff, made of a sturdy metallic substance. Suddenly, Archer knew, recognised it without being told. Shran explained anyway.

“All the prisoners had these on their wrists,” his tone darkened, “and one around their neck.” Jon’s gut clenched at that, hard. Memories of that prison transport flashing before his eyes again. He opened his mouth to say something but Shran held up a hand. “Don’t worry Captain, my doctor concluded that there will be no scarring or other permanent injury to your crewman.” The implication that there might be mental scars went unsaid, but was heard anyway. Archer said quietly.

“I understand.” They arrived at the Reception room and filed in. The Captain stopped in the doorway as he saw the room was already occupied. The occupant looked up at him. For a moment, they just started at each other. Then, a hopeful:

“Cap’n?”

“Trip!” He strode into the room and pulled his friend into a bear hug. Feeling that warm body, breathing in that familiar smell, Jon felt his world realigning and couldn’t help the grin stretching across his face. He wanted to shout and cry and jump up and down and fall to his knees. As he was weathering the storm of his relief, he felt arms closing around him in return. _Safe. He was here and warm and safe._

“Cap’n.” His friend said again, this time a statement, confirmation. Drawing back reluctantly, thoughts of his duty insisting, the Captain scanned his Second Officer for signs of injury. Whilst he looked a bit pale, otherwise he seemed fine. Then Jon realised that Trip’s eyes were shining through his grin. “Good to see you, sir.” There was so much to say. But all he could force out was:

“Likewise.”


	3. Home

Trip Tucker stood still in the middle of his room and breathed. He felt the firm plating under his feet and the faint thrumming of engines around him. He was home. Underneath the weighty relief, was a lingering anxiety. It had morphed from a worry that he’d never get back, to a worry that he hadn’t properly returned. After they’d drank a toast with Shran, Archer promising everything but the Earth in repayment for Shran’s actions, the three of them had returned to Enterprise and the whole afternoon had been lost in a loud, crazy blur. So many happy faces and joyous voices clamouring for his attention. It hadn’t been long before his head had started to ache. He hadn’t the heart to mention it, but someone must have noticed, because Phlox had cut in and tried to usher him to Sick Bay to be properly examined. Now almost desperately tired, Trip had protested and the Captain had tried to reassure the doctor that the Andorians had already treated him thoroughly. Phlox had frowned but in the end had settled for accepting a promise to report to Sick Bay first thing in the morning and dishing out mild threats if he didn’t. Immediate bed rest was prescribed and Jon had walked him to his room, almost as quiet and subdued as Trip was. At the door, Jon had put a heavy hand on his friend’s shoulder and had given him a watery smile. There hadn't been any need for words.

Now Trip was back in his quarters, relishing in the quiet familiarity and familiar surroundings. But still, he felt uneasy, not quite right. Something was… His door comm sounded and he sighed. No rest for the wicked. Or the newly returned. He called.

“Come in.” It was Malcolm. The two men nodded to each other and Trip waved his friend in. Stiffly, the Armoury Officer entered, hands behind his back in a parade rest. He cleared his throat, and shifted slightly, seemingly unsure of what to say. Trip sank down onto the bed and indicated to the desk chair but Malcolm didn’t see him. Instead he blurted.

“You were there, you were right there one moment and then…” Trip, knowing the feeling of disbelief and self-recrimination, finished quietly.

“Gone.” The Lieutenant ripped into himself viciously, looking like he wanted to pace, but he just bounced on his feet, jaw clenching.

“I should have found you, I shouldn’t have just let them take you!” Looking up at him, Trip said flippantly.

“Yeah well, maybe I shouldn’t have wandered off.” Malcolm didn’t seem to hear the words, his gaze inward and deep with guilt. He whispered shakily.

“I am so, so sorry. Trip.” Expression hardening, Trip stood.

“No.” He said fiercely. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” He tilted his head, intensity increasing as he spat, unable to keep his voice steady. “Except for those creepy assholes.” Malcolm didn’t look like he exactly agreed, but he dropped the matter. Giving one of those small sighs of his, he said more positively.

“And you’re…their doctor said you’re going to be alright.” Trip snorted.

“No permanent injury.” There was a hint of bitterness in the blank words. It wasn’t missed by the perceptive Officer. They shared another long, searching look, each finding enough of what they were looking for to be satisfied. Finally, Malcolm said softly, warmly.

“Well, you’re back now. You’re home.” Despite his lingering doubts, his friend’s words gave him hope. He turned and managed a small smile.

“Yeah. I am.”

\---

Sub Commander T’Pol’s stride faltered ever so slightly as she recognised the crew member loitering outside of Sick Bay. Eyes narrowing fractionally, she continued her approach as she theorised the possible reasons Commander Tucker could have for standing and staring at the closed doors. It was early morning and Captain Archer was debriefing Admiral Forrest; Enterprise was continuing on her present course. T’Pol, with no immediate orders that required her attention, had excused herself and was now fulfilling one of her duties as First Officer: assessing and ensuring the well-being of all crewmembers. When she was almost at his side, he startled slightly, as if only realising her presence. Half-turning to see her, he grimaced.

“Sub Commander.” His tone was a tangle of emotions. Embarrassment was dominant, but she also thought she detected relief. Whilst taken aback by the revelation that her presence would induce such a reaction, she quickly rationalised this by the logic that the Commander would be reassured by any reminder that he was safely aboard Enterprise. The most logical reason for his hesitance to enter the room was the similarity between Sick Bay and the laboratory in which he had undergone a number of invasive and distressing experiments. She had read through the data from the Andorians, finding it simultaneously informative and enraging. After reaching the end of the report, a long mediation session had been needed to recover control over her emotions. Inwardly, she told herself sternly that his emotional reaction was not just reserved for her before saying out loud.

“Commander, shall we?” He swallowed, searching her face for a moment before nodding. He held his chin up and pressed the door control himself. Not for the first time, T’Pol felt an undercurrent of admiration as she regarded him. The Commander had many strong, often conflicting character traits which resulted in different people forming wildly different opinions about him, but his inner strength and determination were indisputable. Not only had the Commander retained his composure after his ordeal, he was now facing another challenge head on. They entered Sick Bay together.

Doctor Phlox greeted them as cordially as ever, but glanced at T’Pol questioningly. The Commander didn’t notice the doctor’s hesitance, instead seeming to concentrate on controlling his breathing, eyes darting around the room in clear concern. T’Pol said neutrally.

“If you do not protest, Commander,” Tucker snapped his attention to her at the use of his rank, “I will remain whilst the Doctor completes his examination.” She watched him consider her offer in silence, refusing to acknowledge the positive emotion she felt as he nodded tightly, the mixture of shame and gratitude plain on his face. It incited a curious warmth to unfurl in her belly, the realisation that her presence was comforting for him. Whilst no words had been shared between them on the subject, it was evident to both of them that their relationship had progressed significantly since their first meeting. They now cooperated smoothly, often pushing each other to work more efficiently and cohesively, despite their occasional disagreements, or perhaps, as some had speculated, because of them.

Wasting no time, Phlox directed the human to sit on a bio bed. Using a hand scanner, he began the rudimentary scans on the stiff crew member. The doctor was evidently as concerned as T’Pol as he noted the obvious signs of stress from the Commander, and it was perhaps this concern which prompted him to narrate what he was doing. The steady stream of words seemed to do little to calm him, but when T’Pol stepped into his line of vision, he did relax minutely. Enough for Doctor Phlox to ask him to remove the top of his jumpsuit. The Commander offered no resistance, complying without embarrassment, though he winced as he shifted to the side. Phlox’s mouth tightened at the sight of the light bruising littered across his torso and in particular the circular bruising around his neck. He concentrated his scanner behind the Commander’s head, where the neck brace had been connected to his spinal column. T’Pol glanced over his bare chest briefly before catching the Commander’s gaze. His face was still but she could easily read the fear in his eyes. She began.

“Commander Shran mentioned that you visited the Engineering Department on the Andorian ship.” Nodding minutely, Tucker murmured.

“It was something else.”

“Explain.” With exaggerated reluctance, he looked up at her and began to talk about the differences. She listened to him as he became more animated and enthusiastic about the topic, noting with relief that she had successfully distracted him from Phlox’s examination. “…but they wouldn’t let me look at that either.”

“Any residual pain?” The Doctor’s question, sympathy and concern heavy in his voice, brought them out of their mutual stare and Tucker said, in a shadow of his usual humour and energy.

“I’m fine Doc, just aches is all.”

 “The Andorian medic did an admirable job in treating you. I’d like to monitor your nervous system over the next few days, but other than that I don’t anticipate any problems. All in all, no permanent damage, Commander.” Digesting this, Tucker enquired.

“When can I go back on duty?” Phlox exchanged a knowing glance with T’Pol before saying sternly.

“A few days I should think. Though I reserve the right to revise that estimate, Commander. Knowing you, any number of mishaps could…” He was interrupted as the Captain entered and called.

“Admiral Forrest sends his regards.” Tucker just gave a grimace in acknowledgement, pulling his uniform back up and asking hopefully.

“Can I just go down to Engineering to check on the engines? Just for a minute?” He looked between them all. “Not that I don’t trust my team it’s just…” Seeming to smile unwillingly, Archer relented.

“Permission granted, but only for a minute!” T’Pol found her objection stayed by the lightening of the Commander’s features at the decision. He nodded and made to leave, expression barely changing as T’Pol joined him. She did not bother to look back at the others to see their reaction. Wordlessly, the pair walked to Engineering, although the Commander did glance at her a few times, a question in his expression. When they reached the door, he stopped and turned to her, the energy in his voice almost back to normal.

“I really will only be a minute.” Not sure of what words to employ, she simply nodded. He nodded back but paused before entering the room. He looked at her and breathed as if he were about to speak. She waited but in the end he just held her gaze and nodded again. She watched him go inside and knew that they had turned a corner in their professional and personal relationship. It was most intriguing…

\---

Jon watched Trip over the next few days, making shameless use of his Captain’s privilege to find out when Trip left his quarters in order to conveniently appear close by in case his friend needed anything. He knew that there were no quick fixes, it would take time and patience on everyone’s parts to recover, but he was desperate to do something. He knew that the best thing he could do was to treat Trip normally, but each sign of Trip’s suffering at the hands of the aliens had been no small test to Archer’s self-control; a sharp tug on the draw-string holding him from falling apart, or blowing up. Eventually, satisfied that he would be able to act normal, he invited his friend to watch a water polo game with him. He was pleased when his friend agreed readily, the familiar affected-reluctance an encouraging sign. After the game, Trip sat on the bed, Jon leaning against his desk. By unspoken agreement, they remained in place, waiting to see who would break first. Jon started pacing, Trip watching him out of the corner of his eye. Eventually, Jon said.

“I want you to know that if you ever do want to talk about it. I’m here.” Trip grunted an acknowledgement but otherwise avoided his gaze. Jon went on tentatively. “It might help.” Trip sighed then.

“Yeah… Maybe, just, give me time.” He looked around the room. “I’m still, sorting it out in my head.” Jon just looked at him, drinking in the sight of his friend, alive and right next to him. He thought that he’d never be satisfied with that sight.

“It scared the Hell out of me. When Malcolm said…” He trailed off, swallowing before trying to say light-heartedly. “Thank God the Andorians found you.” Trip managed a small wry grin.

“Worth being in debt to Shran?” Ignoring the attempt at humour, Jon said immediately, with complete certainty.

“Yes.” Blinking rapidly, Trip sniffed and said just as confidently.

“You would have got me out.” Not wanting to linger on his own nightmarish experience of the knowledge that he’d failed his friend, Jon just smiled tightly and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

“I’m glad-” He choked up unexpectedly. Embarrassment mingling with the swell of relief and love as he cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Good to be back.” Jon looked around the room as if for inspiration. He wanted to help so badly but now his friend was there, he didn’t know what to say. Then Trip said suddenly. “You wanna know the worst part?” Jon stopped, bracing himself, knowing that he would hear whatever his friend had to say without flinching, without drawing away. “The worst part was the boredom.” Jon blinked, surprised. Trip snorted and said darkly. “Believe me, the actual-” he considered for a moment before waving his hands vaguely, “they weren’t exactly a picnic.” Jon gritted his teeth through what he knew to be severe understatement, but held his tongue. Trip was silent for a long moment before he blurted out. “There wasn’t anything for me to _do_! All I could do was…lie there, and take it.” Jon understood the frustration, the unique torture of being helpless in a dire situation, having lived through it himself. The memories were still clear and sharp in his head. “At first I just kept talking. They mostly just let me ramble on to myself. I was real careful about what I said in the beginning. Didn’t know what they’d figure out from anything I said.” He swallowed. “But then I realised they weren’t listening. Or maybe I just stopped caring, I was that desperate for someone to answer me, talk back. I talked about old memories, about the engines. I even ended up reciting all the numbers of pi I could remember. I was that bored.” Feeling weak, Jon slowly approached and sat next to Trip on the bed. Still not looking at him, Trip went on quietly.

“And then I started picking up a few words from them. They mostly talked in science-speak I guess, but occasionally I’d hear something I thought wasn’t that. There was this one guy. I think he was new or something, the others were always snapping at him, telling him off. But he was really clumsy, kept dropping things and saying ‘flot!’, ‘flot!”

“So one day I’ve run out of ‘knock knock’ jokes and I say it to them and…they looked at me.” He paused then, expression open and vulnerable, almost amazed.

“I’d surprised them. They didn’t expect it. They looked me in the eye like…Like I was a person and not…” He swallowed and Jon struggled to contain the ugly waves of emotions crashing inside him. Trip needed him to be strong, so he would be strong. Trip whispered.

“When I couldn’t talk anymore…I felt my mind slipping away. I started getting lost in the memories. But mostly I thought about you.” Jon’s heart hurt, felt like it was inflating and being crushed all at once. Trip was looking at him now and he stared into those blue, blue eyes. He’d thought that he’d struggle to say it. But now that he was there, in the moment, it was the easiest thing in the world.

“I love you.” A weight lifted and Jon suddenly felt dizzy with the relief. Trip stared at him for a long time, expression inscrutable. Jon hadn’t thought beyond his confession; it had consumed so much of his thoughts lately. Now his insides squirmed as he suddenly considered all of the possible consequences. In the rush of the moment, he wasn’t even sure which reaction he’d prefer. Finally, Trip said.

“Oh.” He didn’t sound disgusted or angry, so that was positive. He did sound like he was unsure how to react, however. His face relaxed but not smiling, thoughtful almost. Jon hurriedly explained, one hand extended.

“I don’t expect anything. We’ve been friends for years and I hope we’ll be friends for many more. I just, realised it when…” He swallowed. “When I thought I might never see you again.”

“It’s just a lot to take in.” Despite his neutral words, Trip couldn’t mask his discomfort and Jon struggled to find something to say, wishing he’d planned this better. Trip went on. “I’m just getting used to feeling human again…feeling like me.” Jon agreed hurriedly.

“I understand. You take all the time you need.” He’d promised himself to never take his friend for granted ever again and he wanted to make sure his friend knew it. “I’ll be here, for whatever…whatever you need I’m here.” The words felt awkward in his mouth and to his ears, but Trip nodded, no sign of unease on his face now. His back straightened and suddenly, for a moment, he was like is old self.

“Thank you.” His lips twitched and he ventured softly. “Jon…” Relief warring with regret, Jon shifted a bit closer.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump this on you. Especially since you have so much else to deal with.”

“No! No don’t…” Trip cut himself off, breathing in deeply, before stumbling on. “It’s…it’s not a bad thing.” His expression relaxed a little and Jon realised with a jolt that they were a lot closer together now. He could see the pores of his friend’s skin and feel his heat of his breath as he whispered. “It’s kinda nice, I...” His eyes dropped to Jon’s lips, his voice croaking. “I can’t say I’ve never thought about it.” Jon leaned in even more, hope inflating in his chest.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Unable to help himself, Jon reached up, cupping a pale cheek like it was porcelain. Eyes softening, Trip leaned into the touch. Jon could feel his friend’s body heat like a wood fire warming his skin. Trip sighed happily, closing his eyes, seeming to enjoy the contact. Jon swallowed again, voice hoarse.

“Trip.”  Now their foreheads were rested against each other. Trip’s hand came up to grip Jon’s arm and he said almost dreamily, eyes still closed.

“I missed you. Hated not knowing you were with me.” Jon sniffed, gripping Trip’s other arm in a mirror image. He whispered back.

“I was so scared, I was terrified. It almost killed me, not knowing where you were, what they were doing to you.” Trip shivered and Jon’s arms encircled him, one across his back, the other cupping the back of his neck, pulling their bodies closer, lips almost touching.

“Jon…I don’t know how I feel. I don’t want to…” He met Jon’s eyes again. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Guilt welled up in Jon’s throat.

“No, I’m the one who’s taking advantage...” He started to pull away but Trip whispered.

“No wait.” Jon stilled and they stayed entwined, just breathing as Trip tried to find the right words. “Please, I need…” And Jon understood. He gathered Trip up in his arms, Trip’s head tucked in to his shoulder and held on. Feeling that warm body shaking minutely he tried to ignore how bittersweet it felt. He didn’t know where they would go from there, possibilities snaked out from the moment, too many to consider them all.

In the end, it didn’t matter. They were together again and no matter what, he was never letting go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> :D

**Author's Note:**

> Un'betad, so let me know if you spot any errors and what you think in general!  
> :D


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